You gave up everything for Christian.

Everything you had been; your chaos, your wild streak, the Gallagher in you. Selling guns in the school bathroom with Carl, drinking more than you probably should have, selling joints out of an old ice-cream truck with Kev and Lip, smoking with Ian… All of it. You were born into mess and mayhem, and you thrived in it.

But the love you felt for Christian? It was different. It hit harder than any high, warmed deeper than anything else ever could. It made everything else fade.

Except… He’d been hiding something. Something big.

He had leukemia.

And suddenly, the pieces clicked. The pale skin, the constant exhaustion, the weak appetite, the way he sometimes seemed… Off, like he was slipping away from you in ways you hadn’t noticed. But he always brushed it off, laughing it away. “I’m just clumsy.” He’d say. And you’d believed him. Of course you did. You loved him. Every date, every laugh, every stolen kiss felt like the first, over and over again.

Until that day.

You had planned a simple, perfect date, everything he loved. A walk in the park, an ice cream, nothing fancy. He laughed weakly at a joke you made, but then his smile faltered. The ice cream slipped from his hand, his knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground. Unconscious.

You dropped everything and fell to your knees beside him, screaming his name, clutching his hand like your life depended on it. Traffic and strangers blurred around you, sirens in the distance, someone shouting that help was on the way.

The ambulance came, lights flashing, paramedics ripping him from your arms. You refused to let go, following them in, holding onto him until a medic finally forced you off. They rushed him into the emergency room, and you stayed glued to the door, heart hammering, leg bouncing, nails biting into your skin until you tasted blood, utterly paralyzed by fear.

Hours passed like years. Your phone buzzed endlessly, calls from Lip, Veronica, Fiona, Kev, you ignored them all. Nothing mattered except him.

Then the doctor appeared, clipboard in hand.

“Gallagher? I’m Dr. Baker, I'm the one who took care of your boyfriend.” He said.

You shot up, eyes bloodshot, lips raw from biting. “Yeah… Yeah, it’s me. What the fuck happened?”

“We managed to stabilize him for now.” The doctor began. “But his condition has worsened. His leukemia has progressed to a very aggressive stage-”

“What?! He’s got a cancer?!” You shouted, voice cracking, staring daggers at him like he’d personally insulted your entire existence.

“Mrs. Gallagher, please calm down.” The doctor said, glancing down at the clipboard. “Your anger won’t help Mr. Convery. You can visit him, he’s in Room 278. But he’s extremely weak. Try not to touch him too much.”

You didn’t listen. You ran. Up the stairs, through the corridors, barreling into the room. And there he was. Pale. Paler than you’d ever seen him. Blond hair messy against the pillow, machines beeping softly, IVs running into his veins, oxygen masking the faint rise and fall of his chest.

He lifted a trembling hand, managing the faintest, fragile smile. “Hey… Honey…”